Upon The Parallel
by ezillyamused
Summary: Michonne and Rick discover that they have much more in common as the group ventures to a new safe haven.
1. Prologue: Before

****A/N: So I updated this chapter to include Rick's part because we've already seen this in the show and I didn't feel my interpretation of Rick losing Lori warranted a full chapter. I jumped the gun a bit with posting this chapter. Too eager I suppose. Anyway, re-read this if you wish before proceeding to the next chapter! :)****

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><p><strong>Michonne<strong>

Haphazardly, her legs shuffled as she frantically searched through the tent once more, yelling his name. He had to be in there. She needed him to be in there. Pillows, blankets and clothes flew in every direction as her eyes scanned each corner and hidden place possible in the tiny space but the small toddler was nowhere to be found. Her hand gripped his tiny shoe as she fell to her knees, reaching for her cloak and backpack underneath the small cot before coming back onto her boot clad feet. Though the boots were thick and heavy, she managed to trample through the tent without incident, her focus on one task: to find her baby.

Just before she searched her own tent she went to a neighbor's, a young teenager named Susan whom Andre took a liking to immediately. She had a collection of origami papers and every morning at the foot of their tent she left Andre a little surprise. This morning it was a frog. Michonne inspected the tent high and low only to find small splatters of blood and one of her baby's shoes poking out from under the dingy cot.

Checking the bag of its contents, she rustled through, placing Andre's shoe inside and noting everything she needed was actually there before she proceeded to go back from where she came. Sweeping the bulky canvas up and out of her way with the edge of her katana, she carefully stepped out to again face the chaos she'd just escaped moments before.

How could they? What were they thinking? Why would he do that instead of watching their child? Her child. His tiny body formed in her mind. She wanted to hold him tight and never let go. She wanted to shield her boy from this world. Protect him from the evils. From the monsters. That was her life's meaning; To protect and to love her son. But she couldn't and she didn't because she wasn't there.

Michonne's body hardened as she braced herself to retreat to where she'd left them; their remains slain as the virus coursed through their veins, eating away at the life that once flourished. The world around her was a blur. All she saw as she trekked back to the base office of the camp were figures morphed into wavy lines. Maybe it was adrenaline. Maybe it was the burn of the tears forming in her eyes. All she knew was that at the moment she had one mission; get back to where Mike and Terry's bodies laid in convulsions and watch those two bastards turn.

A walker swiped her shoulder, nearly knocking her off her feet. She managed to keep her balance enough to spin around. With a quick swish of the long blade, half of the walker's head floated along the thick and muggy air. The stench of the decaying walking dead sat on the breadth of the atmosphere, nearly suffocating Michonne but she pushed forward. _Mind over matter_, her mother's words, embedded in her brain, came to the surface. _You can get through anything_, she heard her mother's voice reverberate throughout her thoughts as she continued her journey. _Our stock; your stock endured much. You are from the strongest of the strong. You can make it. Put on your big girl panties and handle your business._ Her mother was frank to a fault but Michonne was never offended. She knew her mother's expressions weren't for naught. Anytime she faced an issue, she'd pull out the words her mother spoke over her and her siblings and faced the problem head on but this time things were different. This time she didn't do what she was supposed to do and the consequences were unbearable. _You can't get through anything._

Switching her thoughts to what was actually before her, she slowly approached an already turned Terry. His transformation into one of those monsters was quick; less than an hour. He pounced at her like a lion on the veldt attacking its prey. With ease she unleashed her katana and lunged it completely through Terry's body, fastening him against the wood siding of the base's office. He continued to reach for her, aimlessly grabbing at air as she moved in close, examining his face. His bleak eyes were bloodshot and drooping by the second, like a Salvador Dali painting. Dislodging the blade from his chest cavity she quickly and precisely hacked through both arms, just above the bend of the elbow. Walking around the stumbling corpse, Michonne kicked him down to the ground, where he landed on top of a large chunk of cement. Pressing her boot firmly on his back, she forced all of her weight down to pin him in place.

"You were always no good," she whispered as the corpse writhed and struggled to free itself from her hold. "And you knew Mike was weak minded. That's why he followed behind your sorry ass."

Her knee raised high, with purpose. She crushed the back of the corpse's head dislocating the jaw. She unsheathed the katana and swooped it over Terry's head, forcing the sharp blade into his mouth. With all of her might she rapidly leaned back and pulled the blade through flesh and bone, severing Terry's jaw from his face entirely.

The body lay on the ground, thrashing as she removed the chains from her backpack. She quickly placed the solid metal shackle around its neck. As she came to stand straight, she studied the figure a bit longer. There was no resemblance of a human being ever dwelling in that body. Though, she thought in reality, Terry never really was a human. Some of the stories he would tell Mike about his tryst with women was disgusting. He treated them like goods and had no remorse about it.

She felt like a fool. Why would she have left her child with those two idiots. Because she thought she and Mike were like minded. She thought Mike would guard their child with his very life. Her thoughts had never failed her more than in that single moment.

She yanked the corpse up by the chains and fastened it to a light post before making her way to Mike. Stooping to his level she glared at the bloody bite on his right forearm. He was unconscious and barely breathing. She'd wait. Wait until he took his last breath; watch him suffer to the bitter end.

As soon as she'd arrived to the chaos, Michonne immediately ran to the tent she shared with Mike and Andre. They were nowhere to be found. She then made her way through the mass of the living and dead in search of them. She happened across Terry being brutally torn apart, his flesh being ripped from his bones. Mike was holding off a walker a few feet away. Wincing, she stabbed the corpses attacking them both and drug the two into a corner near the base office.

"Where is Andre," she demanded, yanking Mike up by his collar. He howled in pain. Apparently he'd been bitten on his neck as well. The wound was gaping and gushing blood by the second.

"I – I don't know," he finally managed through gritted teeth. "Not like this. I didn't want to die like this."

"Where is Andre," Michonne repeated once more, holding up their child's shoe. Her voice was soft, as her eyes welled at the thought of her son being mangled by one of those monsters.

Mike forced out a response as he slowly began slightly foaming at the mouth, "Terry and I left him with Susan for a little while. We needed a break. We were stressed out and needed to loosen up."

"You don't get breaks when you're a father Mike," she hissed, her bottom lip quivering ever so slightly. "It's always stressful. It's never not going to be stressful. It's this damn world we're in. It's not going to get any less stressful Mike."

"Michonne," he murmured, "I'm so-"

The blade struck through Mike's heart before he could offer her his too late apology.

"I know," she gasped. "That's all you have ever been… Sorry."

She sat down by his side for a while, watching the corpses pillage their camp and suddenly the world around her slowed to a halt. Everything around her disappeared. It was just her and Mike.

"You know," she confessed. "I thought there was potential in you. I completely lowered my standards to be with you because I thought there was something there. But I guess I was wrong. That's what I get for settling. Sure you were fun and exciting. Sexy and charming but I knew." She stopped for a moment and glared at the almost lifeless body. "You hear me Mike? I knew you weren't the one."

She chuckled to herself. "When I told you I was pregnant you were scared. I thought you were gonna leave me honestly. And I was okay with that. We would have been okay without you. But you surprised me. You stayed. That's when I saw the potential. And I thought, wow, this man cares about me and this child and he is going to take care of us for the rest of his life."

She wiped away a fresh tear that slowly rolled down her cheek before continuing.

"How wrong was I," she chuckled. "If I'm honest with myself, you were never fully devoted even then. A part of you has always been checked out. It's as if you thought having a family would take away all your freedom or you'd lose a bit of yourself by fully committing."

"I loathe you," she growled, "And I hope you rot in there. And I hope you'll be trapped for as long as I want you to be trapped inside that forsaken, rotting body. I hope there's some part of you in there that knows what's happening to you and I hope you suffer for what you did. You put your own flesh and blood at stake to get high. Your son."

Her voice broke and another single tear trailed down her cheek. "My baby-" Her voice trailed off. "I hope he got away. I hope someone found him and kept him safe but I don't know that for sure now. Do I Mike? Huh?"

"Lady," a muffled sound broke its way into her ears, snapping her back to the present.

"What," Michonne questioned, unsheathing her katana. "do you want?"

The innocent bystander lifted his hands at the sight of the drawn sword. "It's not safe is all. You best get outta here soon."

A scowl covered her face as she stared at the man, under eyed and replied, "I'm gonna be just fine. Worry about yourself. I don't need saving."

The man swiftly left Michonne and Mike's body to their own devices. She looked over at him again as his body began to jerk and twitch involuntarily. His eyes shot open, shaded over and milky white as he began a slow, low snarl. She stood up and backed up against the wall, awaiting the assault from Mike's corpse. He jolted up from where he lay and stumbled toward her quickly, furiously. His growl growing as he approached.

"Uhn," she grunted as she spun around herself, slicing both arms in one plunge of the sword.

Just as she dislodged Terry's jaw, she did the same to Mike and shackled him before chaining the two together. She pulled out her cloak from her backpack, slowly and meticulously put it on and grabbed the two corpses' chains, treating them like the animals that they were.

Never again would she trust. Never again would she hope. It was just her now. Alone. Against the world.

"Mike. Terry," she called out. "You ready to go?"

A small smirk made its way to her mouth. "You're right," she laughed derisively. "You _don't_ have a choice."

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><p><strong>Rick<strong>

Everything was off the rails and on a collision course straight to hell. He didn't know his left from his right; up from down and at any given moment he would lapse back to that terrifying mindset. It was equivalent to being trapped in your own nightmarish mind; tortured by anger, fear, hurt and disappointment all at once. The shallow moments of clarity came and went like the blowing of the wind but the crazed state remained longer than he wanted, longer than he ever imagined. After he came to for a while, Hershel mentioned that he'd jacked Glenn up after the young man's attempt to comfort and empathize with Rick. He had no recollection of even seeing Glenn in the tombs. He had been completely absent from his body when he initially went on his tirade. Much of it was nothing more than a haze.

He felt alone and betrayed and it was all his own fault. Had he extended a bit more grace, maybe Lori would still be there. Had he been the bigger person and forgiven her after she discarded him when he approached her, seeking solace and peace when admitting to killing Shane, maybe she would still be there. If he hadn't listened to her and dealt with Shane, maybe she would still be there and he would be gone in her place.

Night came and he stayed in the room with the dead walker that consumed Lori, pleading with his body to sleep but it violently rejected the need to rest. The phone continued to ring and the babies cries grew louder and more distorted. He walked to the phone several times and just stared at it. He knew it couldn't possibly be working. Logic told him his mind was playing tricks but his reality proved otherwise. There were actually multiple people on the other side of the call. They appeared to be in a safe place and he wanted nothing more than to get his people to a safe place. He begged and pleaded. Answering tough questions about how many people he had killed and having to explain that the living that he annihilated were in fact a real threat to the livelihood of the people he swore to protect.

Like a fixated stalker, he stayed close to the room, all day, waiting on the phone calls. He'd spoken with two women and one man and all that transpired from those conversations was nothing. He still remained in the prison. His group was still not secure and safe and he was still as lost as he had been after they were forced to flee from the farm.

Later that day Rick received one last call. The voice on the other side was so familiar, so second nature to him but he knew it just couldn't be. Rick squeezed the bridge of his nose as pain radiated from his brain. This isn't real. This isn't Lori. But it was. It was her. But how could she?

His mind reeling, Rick began to sob as he poured out his heart to Lori. He couldn't fix it. Couldn't fix them. He wanted to but he just couldn't. Static overshadowed her voice as Rick placed the phone back on the receiver. She told him what she wanted him to do and now it was time for him to do it.

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><p>He'd completely lost it in front of the group. When that guy, Tyreese, and his group asked to stay, Lori presented herself to him. But why then? He was their leader. There was no room for distractions and there was certainly no room for him to appear to be a loose cannon, though he was. He fled the scene, shortly after his outburst, to rest a spell. He couldn't look weak in front of the group. He just couldn't. He had to keep it together. That was the only way.<p>

That evening, Rick tossed and turned in his bed, thoughts of Lori plaguing his sleep. He closed his eyes, wishing her away but yet she remained, standing before him wearing that silky white gown from their fifth wedding anniversary.

Feeling someone's presence, Rick fought the urge to turn towards the entrance to his cell. Thinking it could be Carl or Beth with Judith, he coerced his body to oblige and twisted his torso to face the cell opening.

"No," his voice boomed. "No, no, no, no. Why can't you leave me alone?"

Lori slowly began to walk towards him.

"I said no," he breathed, as she came to sit next to him on the small bed. "Wh- why won't you leave me be?"

Her soft hand came to caress his face as he began to sob. "I l-loved you," he gasped as he stuttered the words. "I thought I had more time. I thought I could work it out over time. I needed some more time to make it right. To get us back. There's never enough time. Ther- there's never enough ti-," his voice broke.

Lori looked lovingly at Rick, a small smile creeping across her face as she continued to rub his cheek.

"But now I need you to go. I- I need you to go. Tell me what you want but then go. I- I need you to go."

He brought his hand to cover hers and slid up from where he lay. As he came to sit up, her hand left his cheek and he felt a chill rush through his body. He stared into Lori's eyes, longing for her touch once more.

"Why are you here," he whispered? "I need to know. What are you trying to tell me? What do I need to do?"

No words formed on her lips. No sound escaped from her mouth. She only gazed, her eyes travelling over every inch of his face grieving face. He felt her staring at his hurt, at his shame, at his weakness. He began to feel uneasy at her glares, so he leapt up from the bed, taking two large strides to the cell entrance.

"You get out," he hollered. "Now! I said you get out!"

Walking backwards out of the cell, Rick closed his eyes and began to apply pressure to his temples.

"Get out, get out, getout, getout, getou-," he mumbled as he backed away from the cell.

He opened his eyes and abruptly turned to his left. Michonne stood a few feet away, staring at him. Her look was not one of shock or even horror but of knowing concern. It was as if she knew what was going on, what he was currently experiencing.

"What," he barked. "You need something?"

She only shook her head in response. He walked away towards the showers, looking back only once. Michonne tipped passed his cell but she didn't look in as he assumed she would. Her gaze remained forward.

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><p><strong>AN: Hope you enjoyed the updated version of this chapter. The guts of the story really starts in the next chapter. I hope you all enjoy! :)**


	2. Chapter One: The Church in the Woods

**Rick**

Few words had passed between Rick and Michonne since they'd been in the church and he honestly had no idea how to interpret that. She'd kept her distance, only speaking when she deemed it necessary, which wasn't atypical but it bothered him. There was something in her eyes that was different and he wasn't quite sure what caused it. He hoped it wasn't him but he knew very well that it could be.

He watched her quietly glide through the front doors of the church while everyone gathered around the altar for a bite of breakfast. Suddenly he lost his appetite and opted to check in Michonne, at least that's how he convinced himself to follow. The door hadn't even completely closed behind her when he slipped through. She sat on the steps just out front, turning her attention towards him as he approached. He took a seat by her side and joined her in the silence of nature. The crisp air of the autumn morning welcomed the two of them as they sat staring at the falling leaves. Even in all this, after all they had been through there was still beauty in the world. It was a drastic contrast to the events leading up to even this brief moment of stillness.

"You alright," he finally asked, continuing to look forward. Looking people in the eyes was becoming increasingly difficult for him as of late. Especially the people he cared for. Honestly, he was never great at making eye contact when he felt things were unsettled, and at the moment things were a bit unsettled between Michonne and him.

"Yeah," she softly replied while picking at some weeds growing through the cracks of the steps.

"You don't seem alright," he observed. "I mean you just don't seem like yourself."

"Rick, I'm fine," she assured him. "Just working some things out in my mind. That's all."

She turned to look at him and their eyes connected briefly. He wanted to keep her gaze but he just couldn't, so he quickly turned his attention to the chipped paint on the wooden stairs and began to peel it away with the toe of his boot.

"Okay," he simply responded. He sat with her a little longer and enjoyed the bit of peace they had. The night before had been horrific. It was a relief to get rid of the threat but he always felt like a fragment of his soul died every time he had to take out another human being. Even if that human being would have easily taken his life and those he cared about. He didn't like his thoughts to linger on the things he had to do to keep his people and himself safe, so he cast them aside and returned his focus to Michonne.

"We haven't really talked about what happened back at the house," Rick started, his eyes squinting as the sun slowly made its way across the morning sky, shining bright through the trees.

"We don't have to," she contested. "At least not right now." She shook her head in disapproval of the talk Rick tried to engage her in. "You have a duty to your son and daughter and to these people who look to you for answers." She paused. "For guidance, reassurance. Hope. We can talk about what happened at a later time."

She turned her full attention to Rick and her face began to soften as a smile began to form on her lips. He couldn't help but stare at them. Those lips that spoke words of graceful intelligence. Those lips that allowed a little witty banter and sarcasm to escape at just the right time. They were so full, so beautiful.

"Times kinda a commodity these days," he rebutted, taking his attention away from her mouth. "Don't ya think."

"It is highly valued," she added. "And sometimes scarce. And we often don't know when it's going to be up. But right now, I think we have a little time. That conversation can wait," her voice trailed.

Rick clicked his tongue and smiled at her. The truth was he didn't want to wait but because she said so, he'd go along. She was probably right anyway. She was pretty much right all of the time.

Michonne, bracing herself against the railing, came to her feet, wincing just faintly.

"What's wrong with your arm," Rick asked concerned, shooting up to stand next to her in the case she needed his support.

"It's my shoulder," she rolled it backwards a tad, wincing as she moved it. "I think it's from the kick back of the guns," she chucked. "I'm no good with those things."

"I'll show you some tricks to help cushion the push back later on today."

She nodded in reply.

"Shouldn't have to worry about that too much now though," Rick acknowledged. "I saw you got your sword back."

Her face changed suddenly after the words left his mouth and met her ears and he immediately regretted what he just spoke. She turned her face down to stare at the steps below her boots and sighed heavily. Rick couldn't quite pinpoint what the look was. Maybe anger. Maybe despair but he could have kicked himself in the ass for bringing it up. She told him she didn't miss the sword and there it was back in her possession.

She looked up and stared at the side of his face. "You didn't do anything wrong by bringing up the sword," she began. He was sure a relief flooded his face at her words.

"Honestly, I was shocked that I got it back. Then I was scared."

"But why," he asked, staring at the side of her face as she examined the chipped stairs ahead of her.

"It's as if my past won't let me go," she confessed. "I desperately want to forget what was before but this world won't let me."

Listening to her speak, he wondered what pain she endured. Who did she lose to this world? What kept her at a distance from others for so long? It always piqued his curiosity but he dared not ask. She never brought up her past. Ever but now she's brought it up twice. She was private and if she wanted to share it with him, she would. Maybe someday. Until then, he'd be there to listen and if she needed anything beyond that, he'd be there for that too, just like she'd been there for Carl and him a thousand times before.

"I understand that," he agreed. They sat quietly a little longer, as the coolness of the air became uncomfortable. Michonne began to shiver a bit and rub her shoulders through the thin jacket.

"I know you do," she added.

"Come on," he urged, seeing her grow more agonized by the cool air. "You need to eat something."

"By the way," he added. "You were right. I think it's time for us to go. It's getting cramped in there and we're wearing our welcome. Gonna call a meeting later this morning to discuss logistics. You have any ideas?"

"I'll think about it and let you know before," she answered.

The two made their way through the doors and united with the others as breakfast commenced. Carl offered his father a bowl of something as Rick took a seat next to his son, watching Michonne depart from him to a seat next Sasha and Maggie.

"Is she alright," Carl immediately asked.

"Yeah," Rick eased into a conversation with his son. "She's just fine. Why you asking?"

"Just a little concerned," Carl offered before taking a big bite of what appeared to be oatmeal. "She's been quiet."

"I think she's working through some personal stuff, is all. She'll be alright."

"I know," Carl said assuredly. There was something between Michonne and Carl that Rick envied. She would have these long conversations with Carl and Rick sometimes wish he had an in to those conversations.

"Have you been talking to her," Carl added, snapping Rick away from his thoughts.

Rick hesitated before answering. The question troubled him because he knew he hadn't and he knew Carl was fully aware that he hadn't been talking to Michonne much. Despite knowing these facts, he answered his son anyway. "Not much. I'm not sure why though."

"You should start talking to her more," Carl suggested as he took another big bite. "She's actually really easy to talk to."

"Don't talk with your mouth full," Rick countered. "And I know that. I just don't know what to talk about sometimes. We cover most of the small talk topics. Food, shelter, ammo."

Carl laughed. "That's not small talk topics. That's a list of stuff we need."

Being called out by Carl, Rick had no choice but to join in on the laugh. It was sad really. He didn't know how to talk about anything else, especially topics that a woman would want to engage in. He felt like he lucked into the short conversation he had with her this morning.

"What ya'll laughing about," Daryl questioned as he came to join the two.

"Nothin'," Rick answered quickly.

"My dad is having problems talking t-."

"Carl," Rick cut him off.

"I already know. It's Michonne," Daryl alleged.

Rick rolled his eyes at the betrayal of his brother and son. "I'm not about to sit here and be bashed and accused by the two of you."

"Ain't no use in running away," Daryl started. "Besides, nobody else around here notices."

"Notices what exactly," Rick argued.

"It's just something I noticed when I hooked back up with ya'll before Terminus," Daryl added. "That's all. Ya'll seem different. Act different towards each other. Even more than when we were at the prison."

Rick looked at Carl. "You noticed something too?"

"Now that Daryl mentioned it," Carl added.

"You two are unbelievable," Rick stood up from his seat on the floor. "This conversation is over. Can we all meet in about an hour to discuss our next steps?"

"Yep," Daryl replied grinning at Carl as Rick walked away.

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><p><strong>Michonne<strong>

"Why'd you leave right when we were getting ready to eat breakfast," Sasha asked, looking under eyed at Michonne as she drank water from her glass.

"I enjoy the crisp morning air," Michonne replied stirring her oatmeal with a spoon.

"Rick too," Maggie added.

Michonne dropped the spoon in her bowl, placed it on the floor between her bent legs and stared at the two young ladies sitting to the left and right of her. She was a grown woman and wasn't about to play fifty questions or be the center of their speculations. Not one to beat around the bush she replied to their questioning.

"What exactly are you two implying?"

"You don't cut to the chase do you," Sasha answered with a chuckle. "I like that."

Maggie had to laugh too. "We just noticed you leave and then Rick left shortly after you did."

"Really quickly after you, actually," Sasha added.

"And," Michonne began to interrogate them.

"And," Sasha began, "we were just curious to know what you two had up your sleeves."

"We were talking shop, if you must know," Michonne half lied. It was really none of their business but she suppose she would have been curious if she were on the outside looking in. They were both pretty private people and to see the two of them slip off from the rest of the group was a little suspect. "Rick thinks it's time to move on and look for some place more secure. More stable. We're gonna meet later this morning to discuss things as a group. He asked for my input."

Sasha and Maggie both shook their heads in agreement to her explanation.

"Does that answer meet your approval ladies," Michonne added with a smirk on her face.

"I'm afraid we don't have much of choice but approve," Maggie spoke.

"And I'm afraid you're right," Michonne smiled as she took a bit of cold oatmeal.

"We'll leave you be," Maggie added as the two young ladies left Michonne to herself.

She thought about what Rick asked as she continued eating. They really did need to talk about what happened but she just didn't feel now was the right time. They had just escaped that horrible place, killed some horrible people and rescued Beth from a horrible fate. They definitely didn't need to add any additional stuff to what they had going on at the moment.

Looking up from her bowl, she noticed Rick staring at her, a rather pensive look on his face. He really needed to stop doing that. It apparently was being noticed by everyone except him that he was staring at her and in fact often. She needed him to look past their situation and look ahead. He was their leader and she didn't want to be the reason he appeared unfocused, though it seemed he was doing an okay job of keeping it professional so to speak, until as of late.

Michonne came to her feet and carried the empty bowl to the table in front of the pulpit, taking a stand in front of Rick. The sunlight shown through the stained glass windows, splattering Rick's face with a rainbow of color. It made her smile, taking her back to a time where things were simpler. When she could really relish and enjoy the little beautiful things about life. He stared back at her, kept her gaze and smiled, something he never did. It caught her off guard honestly. She wrapped her long arms low across her stomach before she began to speak to him.

"You've got to stop staring," Michonne began, her smile fading into a more serious line.

Rick looked puzzled. "Staring? At what? I'm not staring."

"Maggie and Sasha noticed," Michonne affirmed. "You've got to stop."

"I don't mean to," Rick added scratching at his beard. He did that sometimes when he was nervous she observed. She made him nervous. He did it almost every time they spoke. Except this morning. He didn't do it this morning, which she found odd.

"Let's make a deal," Michonne declared, trying to find a happy medium for the both of them.

"I- I don't like deals," Rick drawled, a small smile creeping in. "But I'll hear ya out."

"We can talk about what happened once we get to our new destinati-."

"No deal," Rick broke in.

"What," Michonne argued. "Why not?"

"What if we don't make it to our destination," he countered, looking at her with rather serious eyes. They were even more blue than usual. That was probably another indication that she was making him nervous. His breathing seemed more rapid than before too. Was he getting upset?

"You're just borrowing trouble now," she accused.

"Am I," he challenged. "We've been lucky to get as far as we have. If it wasn't for Carol we wouldn't be where we are now. If it wasn't for you I'd be dead. We don't have time Michonne."

"I'm aware of all of that," she agreed, hugging herself a little tighter than before. His aggression was getting to her a bit. He really needed to hash their stuff out.

"Then how about we talk about it once we get on the road," he recommended.

"There's no privacy while we're moving," she argued.

"We can find it," he contended. "No need to waste more time."

"Fine," she finally agreed.

"I'm glad that's settled," Rick announced victoriously as he made his way to the front of the table. She sneered a bit at his arrogance. He thought he actually won that debate but the truth was she gave in. She could have cross-examined the shit out of him if she wanted to but she'd save that for another time.

Michonne started to make her way to gather the rest of the group when Rick reached out and lightly grabbed her arm. He whistled to summon Daryl to join the two of them and began to discuss their next plan of action with the rest of his people.

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><p><strong>AN: I really hope you all enjoyed this chapter. Lots of exciting things are to come. Let me know your thoughts! :)**


	3. Chapter Two: The Road Travelled

**Rick**

Slamming the back doors of the utility van, Rick sighed and swept his eyes across the grounds, ensuring nothing was left behind. Things had been, for the most part, peaceful but the time had come for them to make their departure. The small church was no longer conducive to their needs since they'd regained Beth and an additional person to house and feed in Noah. The night before, Rick contemplated their next steps. It was the right thing to do he rationalized over and over again before coming to the conclusion that they really did not have much choice. There was no way they would be able to make the church work for them. They needed more room and resources to shelter the growing group. Leaving was the only option that made sense, though he dreaded being on the road again. He had to find them a secure place to occupy and fast.

He stared long and hard at the map Abraham handed him before half the group left for the trip to DC that eventually went to shit. They would head North on 85. If memory served him correctly, they should run into some of the smaller towns northeast of the city, which may be cleared of large herds of walkers by now. Perhaps they could find some small community to inhabit.

Making his way back into the sanctuary, Rick scanned the room in search of Michonne. He needed her in his van to help navigate, as she had a superb sense of direction and was very familiar with the greater Atlanta metropolitan area as well as the state of Georgia as a whole. It would also provide him the perfect opportunity to bring up the events that occurred before they had to flee from that ruthless group of men at the house.

He stalked towards the rectory and spotted Michonne, holding on tightly to Judith as if the baby were her own while directing someone unseen. The door was just ajar as he leaned against the door frame, staring at the woman holding his child. She lifted Judith high into the air as the baby grabbed hold of one of her dreadlocks, soaking the end with her drool.

"Ah, ah," Michonne cooed as she gently brought Judith closer to her body and removed the dread from her tiny grasp. "That's not something to eat. That's my crowning glory."

She had a way with Judith that was familiar, instinctual even, like she'd handled children before. He often wondered if she had been a mother before this all happen. Michonne was private, much like himself. He never spoke of Lori or Shane. Not even his parents or brother, ever, so he dared not pry into Michonne's previous life. It wasn't his place. If she wanted him to know she'd tell him.

She caught his eye from her peripheral as she pointed at something and began to make her way across the room to where he stood in the threshold of the door. Judith reached for Rick and he gladly scooped his baby girl into the security of his arms. Beth made an appearance from the closet on the opposite side of the room.

"I found some more socks and onesies in there too Michonne," Beth boasted, displaying pastel baby clothing for Michonne to select from. The scars on her cheek and forehead were healing nicely and it was great to see a smile on the young woman's face. "Oh, hi Rick."

"You two doing some baby clothes shopping," Rick inquired.

"I asked Gabriel if they had a clothing closet yesterday and he directed me here. I thought _little bit_ could use some more things," Michonne replied brushing her hand over Judith's soft blonde hair. "A young lady can never have too many clothing options."

"Thank you," Rick mouthed to Michonne. He began to softly pat his daughter's back as the baby naturally nestled her head under his chin. Rick's eyes narrowed in on Michonne and he motioned for her to draw near.

"You 'bout ready to go," Rick asked. "I wanna get goin' while we have the light."

Michonne nodded in response. "Everything else is packed and in the van. I just couldn't leave without some stuff for Judith."

"Good," he drawled, his eyes scanning over Michonne's face, this time seeking approval for the plans he laid. "We'll make a pit stop in Atlanta for the night. Carol spotted a place not far from the hospital we can hole up in for the night. We'll head further North in the mornin'. Does that sound alright to you?"

"Of course it does, Rick," Michonne smiled as she gathered the last bag of baby clothes she and Beth acquired from the closet. The four made their way out of the rectory and into the main sanctuary where they were greeted by the rest of the group.

"Ya'll ready to go," Daryl voiced as they joined the group.

"Always," Rick answered as they vacated the small church in the woods.

* * *

><p>Packed to the hilt with people and supplies, the two vans shredded down the desolate highway. Michonne navigated the first van while Daryl piloted the other. From the moment Michonne started up the van, Rick began to evaluate how he would segue <em>the talk<em> into the conversation. The thing with Michonne was she was as fickle as they come when it came to personal matters, even when there was another party involved, namely Rick. He didn't know exactly what it was about him that made her clam up. She had no problems blabbing all day long with Carl but anytime Rick ever inquired about anything she deemed too personal, she'd evade answering by changing the subject or simply acting as if she didn't hear the question.

When she didn't want to talk about something the woman transformed into a stone wall. Rick tried to gauge her, though she was a tough read. Maybe he could get something out of her now. She seemed in good spirits. They had only been on the road for about ten minutes before Rick decided to strike up a chat.

"I think we'll make it there in about an hour," Rick eased into light chatter.

"Maybe a bit sooner," Michonne offered.

"Yeah," Rick whispered. "Maybe."

"Where is the place Carol told you about," Michonne asked.

"About three blocks from Grady Memorial. A shelter for battered women and children."

"_The Hearth Home_," Michonne uttered. "I volunteered there a few times. Used to be a really nice facility."

"Hmm," Rick mumbled. "Well, we'll check it out once we get there and set up blockades. Figure out a lookout rotation."

"Whatever you say _boss_," Michonne smiled at her joke. She'd called him that once before and he wasn't remotely amused. He wasn't a bit more her or anyone else's boss. Hell, no one really wanted to hear him out as of late anyway. If they had, some of the events wouldn't have transpired as they did.

"Ha ha," Rick mocked. "You wanna know what's really funny?"

"What," Michonne inquired turning her attention to him quickly before placing her eyes back on the road.

"You not wanting to talk about the night you found Carl and me at that house."

Michonne grinned. "Pull out your watch?"

"What," Rick responded, his brow furrowing in confusion as he reached in his pocket to retrieve the watch.

"We've been in this van for seventeen minutes," Michonne noted, staring at the hands of the watch. "I thought you'd at least wait a good thirty minutes before sparking up that conversation. Besides, it's not so private. We're still in close quarters. The front row of seats will hear everything we say."

"Would you stop doin' that," Rick pleaded with her softly as he shook his head. He turned to look out the passenger's window, his chin propped up by his hand as his elbow rested on the window's edge.

He glanced in her direction quickly before allowing the quiet to consume him and his thoughts. Her facial expression went from delighted to downcast in an instant. He rolled his eyes and returned his icy glare through the window of blurred landscape. He tried everything he could to get her to acknowledge him, to relate and support her but all of his efforts seemed pointless as she practically pushed him aside. After all they'd been through at the prison, after she found him and Carl, after the slaughter of the Termites and the rescue of Beth there was still something holding her back from him.

Agitation ran its course throughout Rick's body. Unable to contain his irritation, he suddenly unbuckled his seatbelt and made his way to the back.

"Rick," Michonne called aloud but he ignored her protest. If she wasn't willing to hear him out in that moment, he was not going to be willing to hear her excuses. He approached Carl and asked him to go up front.

"Dad," Carl asked as Rick slipped into the seat and took Judith from Tyreese. "What's the matter?"

"Nothing," Rick lied, not making eye contact with Carl. "Just thought you and 'Chonne might wanna spend some time together during the drive."

He raised Judith above his face and wiggled her from side to side. She reached for his beard as giggles erupted from her mouth and slobber began to fall. Babies were the perfect distraction he thought as he watched his son make his way to the front of the van. He'd try anything to get his mind off of Michonne right now but who was he kidding really? He glanced at the rearview mirror just as she did and their eyes linked before they both pulled away.

* * *

><p><strong>Michonne (Flashback)<strong>

Though darkness consumed the house, Michonne found her heart overflowing like sunshine. She'd found them. She was actually face to face with Rick and Carl Grimes after the tumultuous events leading to the fall of the prison and Hershel's death. Just when she was giving up, just as hope began its descent, she happened upon them. Her belief in coincidence dissolved the moment she looked through the sidelight at the front door of that house and saw her guys sitting together, chatting and smiling. It warmed her heart as she accepted the free falling tears. Maybe miracles were real. Maybe there was some grand purpose to this otherwise devastating existence.

Light breathing escaped from Carl's mouth as he rolled over onto his back on the bed, an Incredible Hulk comic spread across his chest. The display brought a smile to Michonne's face. She replaced the comic with the quilt on the bed and kissed the teenager on the forehead. He would have died if she did that while he was awake, so she enjoyed secretly presenting her affection for the young man while he slumbered. Quietly escaping the bedroom where Carl slept, she fastened the door behind her and made her way down the hall in pursuit of a place to lay her weary body. After a few days on the road, it was a glorious welcome to sleep in an actual bed.

Tiptoeing towards the larger bedroom, she gasped as another door flung open before her, forcing her to jump back and plan her attack. Her chest heaved and her heartbeat accelerated as Rick emerged.

"You alright," Rick questioned as he limped towards Michonne. Relief came over Michonne as her breathing returned to normal.

"I should be asking you if you're alright," Michonne returned, moving in a little closer. Her hands instinctively made their way to his bruised and swollen face.

He shied away slightly but returned his gaze to her as her fingertips graced his broken and weathered flesh.

"It's not as bad as it looks," Rick professed.

"Liar," she called him out. "Carl said you were unconscious the first day you two were here."

Michonne reached into her pocket and removed a small package.

"Needle and thread," she announced as she gestured towards the bedroom. "Hershel gave it to me the first time I went looking for The Governor."

She made her way past Rick and entered the room on the left. He followed, wincing as he made his way to sit on the edge of the bed. Removing a box of matches from the nightstand, he lit three candles, lighting the shadowy room.

Michonne made her way down to her knees before him and began to suture the small but deep cuts on the bridge of his nose and under his left eye. She noticed that his face was slightly puffy, like it was once very swollen. He flinched as the needle pierced his skin. Michonne tried to be as gentle as she could while starting a conversation to keep his attention from her task.

"My mother was a nurse," she confessed. "Wanted me or my sister to follow in her footsteps but I was never good with dealing with sick people. Always made my stomach cringe to see people in pain and suffering. My mother knew pretty early on that wasn't for me. So my sister ended up her little protégé."

She laughed, "Funny how things change."

"Yeah," he muttered as she tied off the thread.

"I learned a few things from my mom. Like bandaging, basic clean up of wounds and how to deal with swelling." She removed an alcohol swab from the packaging and wiped away the remaining blood and grime from around his wounds. "I played some contact sports in high school and college. Didn't have much choice but learn how to deal with those things."

"There," she said tidying up her mess of loose threads and returned the needle back into its case. "Your ribs… they're bruised?"

Rick only nodded in response, his gaze remained on her face as Michonne aided him in lying down.

"You need to try to stay as still as possible. Stay on your back," she commanded as she drew the blanket over his body. She lightly tapped his shoulder before she turned to exit. "I'll wrap your ribs in the morning."

Before she took a step, Rick reached, his large hand easily wrapped completely around her tiny wrist.

"Stay," Rick whispered. "There's enough room in this bed for the both of us and I – I just don't think we should be alone. I don't want to be alone."

She turned and studied the man's face in the dim light as the candles burned down. The man who was a pillar of strength. The man who had provided for them. The man who tried to save and protect his people. The man who was destined to lead. She trusted Rick with her life and would follow his lead until the day came that she had to depart from it. Nodding in response, she made her way to the other side of the bed and lay beside him. A long spell of silence ensued between the two but it wasn't strange. There was comfort and there was peace. Rick snaked his bandaged hand towards Michonne's and she gladly clutched it.

"Thank you," Rick broke the silence. "For saving me from him."

"It's what we do," Michonne returned.

Rick attempted to turn towards her but she lightly pushed him down and shook her head. "You should stay on your back."

She turned on her side to face him and they stared at each other for a long while.

"I never really apologized to you," Rick started again. He had never been this talkative. Maybe losing everything put things into perspective for him.

"You can't afford to appear weak in front of the group," Michonne replied. "I understand that. I accept it and I know that you were sorry. Your actions from the point I returned after Merle took me implied that you were. Sometimes words aren't needed."

His breathing became labored as she spoke. She wasn't sure if what she said bothered him or if he was relieved to hear her speak those words. Without notice Rick swiftly came on his side and drew Michonne's face towards his, his hand splayed behind her head. His lips swept softly, gently across hers before he pulled away, his eyes wide, as he surprised himself. Michonne, a bit shocked and flushed from the warmth of the kiss radiated through her body, remained still.

Rick hesitated, "I – Michonne. I'm sorry. I shouldn't ha-"

She pressed him back down into the mattress and her mouth consumed his. She didn't even mind the fact that his beard scratched and irritated her skin. As their lips parted, Rick's teeth lightly held onto Michonne's bottom lip. She gazed into the whites of his eyes, unable to make out the color but she knew they had turned that deep shade of blue, like cobalt.

"Don't be," she retorted as her hands brushed through his thick curly hair. Cozying up into the crook of Rick's arm, Michonne pulled the blanket over her body and placed her hand on Rick's chest, falling asleep to the beating of his heart.

* * *

><p><strong>Michonne<strong>

He clenched his jaw and began to withdraw from her. That was his typical response to being pissed and at the moment he was over her inability to open up to him. She thought by not readily speaking about what happened it somehow kept Rick from appearing weak. He needed to be strong. He needed to appear focused. Or maybe she was keeping herself from appearing weak. She was never one for gossip or being the center of some melodramatic episode, so to ensure that never occurred she remained quiet.

As they parked the vans and began to unload their things, her eyes met those of Rick who was at it again, staring in her direction. She mouthed to him, "Talk tonight," and he responded with a nod of his own.

Carl approached her and grabbed a backpack and two bags from the ground. "Is everything okay with you and my dad?"

"We're fine Carl," Michonne answered as she grabbed a backpack and box of canned goods.

They made their way around the van and started down the street towards the shelter when Michonne stopped in her tracks, the box of canned goods slipping from her grasp. Her eyes glued to the side of a high rise building, nearly dilapidated from the bombing of the city just after the turn. It was practically a ruin. Carl came to her side and began to help her pick up the cans.

"Why are you staring at that building," Carl inquired as he picked up the last can and placed it in the box. "Does that place mean something to you?"

"Carl," Michonne shook her head. "Just drop it."

"Did you work there? Did you live there," he relentlessly questioned. His persistence was something she both loathed and appreciated. He was unyielding and she knew she wouldn't get away with not saying anything to him so it was best to stop his pestering by answering his questions.

"I lived there, on the eighth floor," Michonne replied. "I forgot how close the shelter was to my condo. It seems like centuries have passed since all this began."

"I'm sorry Mich," Carl apologized. "I didn't know."

"It's alright," she replied. "My past isn't going to let me forget without dealing with everything. It's my curse for not being there for Andr-"

"That wasn't your fault," Carl cut in sharply. "That was_ not_ your fault."

He picked his bags back up and started down the street without her. "We better catch up with everyone before they get worried."

Michonne lifted the heavy box and trailed behind Carl towards the shelter, trying her best not to be consumed with what happened. What was done was done and there was nothing she could do about the past now.

* * *

><p><strong>Rick<strong>

Calloused and coarse, Rick's hands tossed the last remnants of what once was a walker into the blazing fire Tyreese created in the courtyard. Flecks of fire dispersed into the chilling air as he backed away towards the door. He wiped the sweat from his brow and nodded as Daryl approached.

"You can put it out," Rick directed as he made his way inside. "That was the last of 'em."

A pat on the back from Daryl left Rick feeling a sense of accomplishment and control despite the chaos. They came in and cleared out a small assembly of dormant walkers that littered one of the main corridors leading to the bedrooms. His thoughts fled from the recent clean up to Michonne. She pissed him off with her seemingly indifference to what had transpired between them but he couldn't stay mad. She had to have her reasons for not wanting to discuss it. He'd respect her wishes for the time being but they would talk sooner rather than later.

Turning the corner to his assigned bedroom, he found a pensive Michonne, pacing the length of the bedroom. He inclined his lean body against the door frame, waiting for her to notice him there. She turned to face him and the look she gave him set his entire body ablaze. She was ready to talk. Approaching him, she grabbed his hand and led him to the bed and they both sat down. His eyes roamed over her face in the diminishing light. Every part of her caused a sense of euphoria to erupt within him. Her dark eyes, her smooth skin, her strength, her wisdom, even her few flaws, all elated his very soul.

"I know this has been on your mind for a while and I want to just get this all out in the open," she started, disconnecting her gaze from his, though he continued to stare at her. "Let me first say that I have no regrets."

Her gaze returned and her face softened even more. "I just know that we had a lot to do to find everyone and then once we regrouped they were going to look to you to lead them Rick and I didn't want to be a distraction. I can take care of myself. Did for many, many months before I found Andrea. You don't have to worry about me. I don't want you to worry about me. You have enough to concern yourself with Carl and now that we have Judith back…" her voice trailed off and her eyes appeared distant.

"Michonne," Rick whispered.

"I'm here for you Rick. You've helped me in more ways than you will ever know. Brought me back from a very deep and dark place. I will forever be grateful for that. And I'm still working some things out but you're gonna have to let me do that on my own and in my own time."

"But I want more from you than that," he interjected. "That kiss wasn't just a kiss. It wasn't spontaneous and it meant something to me. I'd been wanting to do that for a long time. I need you by my side and I am going to worry about you because I care about you. What you did for me and what you've been doing for Carl… there is no way for me to repay you for that except for my loyalty to you."

He grabbed her hand and held it in his. "I need you by my side. I don't wanna go this alone. And I know that's a lot to ask of you but you said you were done taking breaks. I need you here with me. And I want to know you. The real you. Not the person this world made."

"Rick," Michonne contented. "I can't give you everything right this second but I'm willing to do it bit by bit. On my terms. If you can accept that…"

He scratched his beard and stared into the darkened room, his eyes accommodating to the change in lighting. Little bits of her were better than none of her he thought. Maybe if he opened up a little more about Lori and Shane, she'd be willing to share more of herself with him. Talking about them was tough but he knew sooner or later he would have to. It was the only way to recover from the betrayal; to lay it out plainly to someone. Maybe she could relate. Maybe she would understand. In the meantime he'd offer her himself and accept her terms.

"I'm alright with that," he finally replied.

"Ahem," a voice broke into the conversation. It was Noah toting Judith. He held her like she was a box and at arm's length. "I think she needs changing."

"Where's Carl," Rick questioned standing up to take his baby girl from the hands of the young man. "He was watching her."

"Uh, Carl left about thirty minutes ago. Said he was coming to talk to you. Beth and I have been with Judith. Beth didn't know where the diapers were so I was coming here to see if Carl was stil-"

"Wait," Rick felt his blood pressure begin to rise. "Carl hasn't been down here."

Noah's eyes grew wide and he shrugged his shoulders, indicating he had no further knowledge of Carl's whereabouts.

Turning his head back and forth between the young man and Michonne Rick belted, "Then where the hell is he?"

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Sorry for the extended amount of time that has lapsed between this update and the last. This time of year just gets too busy but I'm really going to try to update this regularly. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter and feedback, as always, is welcome.

To the readers who reviewed anonymously or without logging in -

KyannaLashae - I'm glad you're enjoying the story so far. I adore Richonne too... obviously! Thanks so much for reading and leaving a review! I appreciate it! :)

Kam - Yeah, Rick's not one to back down from anything really. He'll push the envelope with Michonne throughout this story. Thanks so much for reading and the review! It is most appreciated! :)

Alex311 - You're awesome for such a nice review. I felt like you were probably smiling while reviewing and that brings me much joy. I'm thrilled that you are enjoying the story and my depiction of our beloved ship. Again, many thanks for your kind words! :)


	4. Chapter Three: The Place She Called Home

**A/N:** If you reviewed and signed in, I have responded to your review. Thank you so much for reading! For those who reviewed anonymously or without signing in:

Guest – We shall see where our dear Carl ventured. Perhaps he did go to Mich's apartment… you'll have to read to find out. Thanks so much for reading and for your lovely review. It brought a smile to my face.

Kam – We know Carl has a penchant for running towards danger instead of away. We'll see where the young Grimes has gone. Thanks for supporting this story and for the review. You're the best!

Alex311 – Ha ha! Guys can be so emotional (says a very emotional woman) but I know how to switch it on and off (depending on the situation)! LOL! I'm glad you found "upset with Michonne" Rick cute. You are just too sweet for words. Thanks so much for that very wonderful compliment. I'm just happy anyone is reading what I write to be honest. I really appreciate you reading and reviewing this story. You totally rock!

* * *

><p><strong>Michonne<strong>

A missing Carl should not have been news to her. She was well aware of his inability to stay put and his need to aid the lost and helpless. He was a sweet and kind young man, even in the midst of the craziness they encountered daily. His lack of self-interest and his careless pride in regards to himself frightened her though. He was a growing boy and getting stronger by the day but she couldn't prevent her thoughts from going back to the night Rick ripped out, with his teeth, the carotid artery of the man threatening their lives. Without a blink of an eye, Rick gutted the man who threatened to take Carl's innocence and she knew if she were in his shoes she would have done the same. Though Carl thought he was a man, thought he was strong, there were still enough evil people in this world willing to test that and prove him wrong.

Leaping from her seat on the bed, Michonne purposefully strapped her katana across her back as her eyes made their way to a panic stricken Rick, holding Judith snug to his chest. "I know where Carl is."

Puzzled, Rick questioned, his eyebrows furrowing ever so slightly, "Where is he?"

A heavy sigh escaped her mouth as she searched for the words. She didn't want Rick to come with her but she knew he'd fight her tooth and nail. She couldn't really blame him. It was his son that was missing. Given a second chance she'd travel through hell and high water to find and protect her own son. It appeared her past was not going to let her do this on her own and in her own time. She closed her eyes, praying for the strength to at least tell Rick about the place she called home before this all began.

Inhaling deeply she began, "There's a high-rise about a half a block from here, not far from where we parked the vans."

She paused, collecting her thoughts before proceeding to shed a little more light on her past life. "Carl and I grabbed a few more bags and I grabbed a box of food before we started towards the shelter. I forgot… I lived in a condo in that high-rise and when I saw it I froze. Dropped the box and everything."

Rick moved in closer, though he didn't attempt to touch or comfort her. He only hugged Judith a little tighter and listened intently. She could only conclude that it was taking everything for him not to shake the rest of it out of her.

"Carl saw me staring at the building and drilled me with a ton of questions until I answered him. I even told him what floor I lived on. I'm positive that's where he went."

"Then let's go," Rick announced without a qualm. "I'll follow your lead."

He passed Judith back to Noah before placing his gun holster taut around his waist. His focus returned to Michonne as she ran down her list of directives to the young man.

"Take Judy back to Beth," Michonne instructed as she watched Rick secure the red handled machete to a hook attached to his belt.

"Find Daryl and tell him Rick and I are out looking for Carl. I need him and Tyreese or Glenn to spot for us. Ask Maggie, Sasha and Carol to do a search of the facility for Carl."

"Daryl can reach me by radio," Rick added as he tucked the walkie into the back pocket of his jeans. "If you hear anything or if Carl comes back, ya'll let me know."

"Yes sir," Noah replied still holding Judith a distance from his body, her little chunky legs dangling in the air. She began to squirm and wiggle uncomfortably in Noah's hands. "I understand finding Carl is a priority b- but she still needs to be changed."

"Noah, is it," Rick spoke low through gritted teeth as Michonne tossed a plastic bag of diapers in Noah's direction. The young man fumbled a bit to catch the bag and struggled to keep a good grip on the baby. "It's only shit. She'll live and so will you. Now go."

Noah's eyes grew wide in reverential fear as he hurried out the door and down the hallway.

"Little girl, what have you been eating" Noah asked softly, though his question did not go unheard.

"He's a little shit," Rick snarled his disdain for the young man to Michonne.

His agitation made Michonne feel even worse than she did when she first laid eyes on the building. Had she not responded, Carl wouldn't have noticed and trekked out there on his own. He was always poking his nose in other people's business. Carl was her _little shit_, she thought as they ventured out of the front doors of the shelter and onto the street. Their legs quietly and harmoniously hurried around the corner from the building and there before her stood the once ivory colored high-rise. The place she dwelled with _her _family. Now it was nothing more than a part of the urban wasteland that was once downtown Atlanta.

* * *

><p><strong>Rick<strong>

He was going to have a long talk with Carl once they found him. That or he really needed to put a strap to his son's backside, though that was never his way of discipline. It was far too late to start that anyway and he was sure Carl would buck back at him in a second. He could put Carl down easily but what would that prove? If anything it would make Carl more defiant. No, he'd sit down and have a calm man to man chat with his boy.

Michonne paused quickly just ahead of him, bringing him back to the present. They'd stepped into what he could only deem badlands. Rancid decaying flesh overwhelmed their nostrils as they stood on the landing just before the last flight of steps to the eighth floor.

"The smell," Michonne coughed as Rick came to her side and shined the flashlight over a sea of slaughtered walker bodies cascading down the staircase.

"Yeah," he mumbled as he placed his arm over his mouth and nose. The stench was so strong that it began to burn his eyes. "We're gonna have to cross over that. You go first. Go quick."

Grabbing a hold of the rusted railing, Michonne craftily tramped over the putrefying bodies as fast as her feet and legs would allow until she reached the second landing. A little out of breath she called towards the gleaming light coming from his flashlight, "Rick, stay close to the railing and hold on ti-"

A loud thud and bang interrupted her voice as a heavy gasp escaped from her mouth meeting Rick's ears in the blackness.

"Shit," Rick called out floating over the decaying bodies like he was jumping over hurdles.

"Michonne," Rick cried as he reached the landing.

He couldn't see her as he recklessly turned around himself, guiding the flashlight in every direction. Bright white light made Michonne known as she struggled to free herself from the grasp of a walker torso. Replacing the flashlight with his weapon, Rick lunged forward and drove the red handled machete into the head of the walker. He punted the body to the side and reached aimlessly into the dark until his hands found Michonne. Helping her up onto her feet, he heedlessly surrounded her with his arms and pulled her into his body.

"Damn walker, pulled my feet from underneath me," she explained. "I couldn't see anything. Didn't know if you had made it up and I couldn't grab hold of my sword. Fucking stupid."

"Hey," Rick said as he released her. "You know this is unpredictable. That's why were together. I got you, alright?"

He walked away from and retrieved the flashlight he tossed on the ground before they made their way through the door of the eighth floor. He poked his head through the door and tossed his gaze back and forth down the long, empty corridor before moving forward. Michonne was inches behind him, as he could hear the rise and fall of her breathing quicken once their feet made contact with the carpeted hallway. He knew she was worried and uncomfortable because this was a part of her she had left behind and long forgotten. Here they were, now, rehashing old wounds that had never fully healed over for her. He wanted to reach out and hold her hand. He wanted to tell her he understood. He wanted to tell her that it would all be alright but he didn't know that for sure. He didn't know what she had internalized over the past few years. Instead he motioned for her to walk ahead and lead the way to her old home.

She automatically made her way down the hall to a unit on the right hand side of the narrow corridor and placed her hand on the door knob. Rick made his way beside her and swiped the red handled machete from his belt hook as she slid her slender fingers around the handle of her katana, gripping it tightly.

"You alright," Rick whispered, noticing her anxiety heightened. She nodded slowly in response.

Deftly, Michonne's boot ripped the door off its hinges as they entered the condo, on guard. Rick handled the machete in his right hand as the bright white beam of the flashlight scanned the contents of the unit. There was vestige of someone once living in the space, as his eyes glanced over a large modern bookcase filled with books. The floor was littered with papers and clothing as he swept through the small atrium and into the living room, Michonne was feet ahead of him staring down at something near a chaise lounge. He attempted to watch her and be alert of their surroundings as she made her way to the floor. Tossing the katana aside she sat on her knees and studied something she had retrieved from a broken picture frame.

Rick turned his back towards her and began to slowly walk backwards, keeping his focus on their environment as she began to lightly sob. Words softly began to form into coherence as he stooped down behind her, his back touching hers. Releasing the flashlight, he grabbed a hold of her hand. He could feel the slick photograph under her fingers.

"Rick," she bawled. "I- I'm s-so sorry."

For now he didn't want to know what she'd seen or what provoked that reaction from her. He had no peaceful or consolable words to offer her, only his presence and he hoped that was enough. He squeezed her hand in his as he made his way to sit completely on the floor, his back leaning against hers.

"Take your time," he returned as she withdrew into her past, allowing the tears and hurt to drown her.

Trying hard to push aside Michonne's quiet sobs, Rick permitted the stillness to consume his thoughts. He thought about a much simpler time; A time when his wife was there. A time when he would grab a beer and watch the Falcon's play with Shane. But that was no more. His thoughts hastily rushed to Carl. He was the reason they were in the building in the first place. Worry began its necessary descent over Rick's body as images of his son came to the forefront of his mind. He stood up from where he sat and placed a loving hand on Michonne's shoulder.

"Imma go check out the rest of the place and see if I can find Carl," Rick drawled as he stood tall. Michonne came to her feet quickly as he moved forward. "It's alright 'Chonne. I got this."

"No," she contended, wiping her tear stained face clean with the palms of her hands. "We're in this together. We came here to find Carl and I'm going to help you find him. I'm the reason he left to come here in the first place."

They made their way down the hallway towards the bedrooms when static pierced the dead tranquility of the condo.

"Rick," Daryl's voice cracked over the airwaves. "Carl's here."

* * *

><p><strong>Carl<strong>

Carl knew his dad would be pissed but he didn't care. So what if he got in trouble. What was his dad going to do, ground him and from what? It wasn't like life was how it once was. He knew what he did was the right thing to do and he would stand by his decision no matter what the consequences were. His dad deserved to be happy and so did Michonne and the only way they would be able to do so, would be for them to move forward with their lives.

He playfully plopped down on the bed in his dad's room after Daryl escorted him inside. Under eyed, he stared up at Daryl with a small smirk on his face.

"Where were ya," Daryl asked, leaning against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest.

"Why would I tell you," Carl countered. "You're just gonna go back and tell my dad. I'd rather tell him myself."

Daryl laughed and shook his head. "Alright."

"Stay put," Daryl directed as he started to leave. "Your dad's on his way."

His long legs shook as he dug deep into his pants pocket retrieving the Big Cat he won on a dare from Michonne. Studying the wrapper, he started thinking about his friend and her current state of mind. He didn't like seeing Michonne down on herself. She didn't deserve to feel inadequate. She didn't deserve to blame herself for her son's disappearance and death. She deserved peace of mind. She deserved some hope and Carl would do everything in his power to aid her.

After spending some time with Beth, Noah and Judith, Carl decided he had enough of the teenagers and baby and opted to venture out to find Michonne. She'd been setting up traps at the front entrance of the shelter. When he arrived she wasn't there but he came across Carol and questioned her if she knew of Michonne's whereabouts. She informed him that Michonne went to talk to his dad.

Carl wandered along the hall quietly on his way to chat with Michonne. He'd just finished an Iron Man comic and wanted to rub it in her face how awesome it was. A low voice that didn't belong to his dad captured Carl's ears as he approached the bedroom. Pressing his back against the wall, Carl listened intently by the doorway. It was Michonne but who was she talking too. He slowly raked his eyes around the corner and saw Michonne alone; pacing and talking to herself.

"No," her voice seethed into the silence. "I'm not going back there."

She turned abruptly towards the door and Carl rapidly pressed his body back against the wall and slid down until he was seated. He pulled his legs into his body and rested his head and arms on his knees as he continued to listen to Michonne.

"I've been done with this for a while Mike. There's nothing left for me in that place. That's not my home." She paused a moment before speaking again. "I don't give a shit what you think I should do. You weren't there. You were never there for us and Andre would still be with me if - "

It was then that Carl decided he had to do something to help her. She couldn't continue to slip back to that place. She had admitted to Carl before they made it to Terminus that the last time she spoke to Mike was right before she decided to search for some of the prison group; right before she found him and his dad. If he could help it, he wouldn't let her go back there. He had to do something and he had to do it quick.

"Carl," Rick's voice thundered, breaking Carl's stream of consciousness, as he entered the room and stalked towards his son. "Get up right now."

Carl reluctantly stood before his dad, not knowing what was to come. His father's face was covered in fury and something else Carl couldn't quite pinpoint. Rick grabbed Carl by the shoulders and pulled him into his chest, squeezing the boy tightly. Michonne walked up and grasped Carl's hand. Rick released his son and stepped back allowing Michonne to embrace Carl as well.

Upon release, Rick motioned for Carl to have a seat as he placed his hands on his hips. His pace back and forth across the room was slow and calculated. Carl knew he was going to get it; just didn't know how.

"Did you go to Michonne's old condo," Rick queried, his arms crossed loosely over his chest as he tilted his head to the side, examining Carl's face.

"No," Carl answered honestly.

"Then where were you," Michonne asked.

"You two needed this," Carl began his explanation. "And I knew that if you thought I'd gone to your old condo you'd two go looking for me. It gave you a chance to talk privately and"

"And what?"

He stared into Michonne's dark eyes. "And it would give you a chance to talk to someone other than me about your life before."

Michonne exhaled heavily and started shaking her head. "Carl, this isn't on you. You don't have to get involved in all this heavy stuff."

"But," he protested. "You were talking to him again. I saw you. I heard you."

"Look," Rick intervened. "Carl, don't run off like that again. You're putting yourself and us in danger. It was pitch black in that building and Michonne was tripped by a walker when we went looking for _you_. What if she really got hurt? Listen to her and stay out of adult situations. It's not on you. Now go before I change my mind about strappin' your behind with my belt."

He got up from his seat on the bed and started towards the door.

"Hey," Michonne called after him. "You didn't answer us. Where were you if you didn't go to the condo?"

"I waited in the van and watched you and dad go looking for me. I waited about thirty minutes after you entered the building before I went back to the shelter." He looked at his dad, who was squeezing the bridge of his nose, before returning his gaze to Michonne.

"You are not to leave and go anywhere on your own for the next couple of days," Rick commanded. "You don't go on any runs and if we need you to, you are to remain next to Michonne or me at all times. And you're on babysitting duty with Noah and Beth. No if ands or buts. Got it?"

Carl shook his head in affirmation before turning on his heels and heading into the hallway. His dad closed the door behind him and he stood outside listening to the beginning of the budding conversation between his dad and Michonne.

A smile met his lips as he walked away triumphant.

"I win," he whispered as he made his way down the hallway to his quarters.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** I'm trying really hard to update this a bit more frequently. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter and thank you all for your wonderful feedback. I sincerely appreciate it very much. That Carl is a very sneaky fellow but alas, I think his efforts will work. Who knows what's being discussed behind that closed door. You shall find out in the next update!


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